


Belum

by ThatBohoFemme



Series: The Language of Love [17]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Getting Together, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Post-Smackdown 9/3/19, Pre-Relationship, Random Acts Of Kindness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 21:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20589416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatBohoFemme/pseuds/ThatBohoFemme
Summary: Maybe he could run. Mustafa wouldn't be any wiser. He could give the night auditor most of the chicken.That felt like the better plan.Before he could make a decision, the door popped open. Mustafa  looked as close to irritated as Elias had ever seen. Maybe irritated wasn't the right description. He looked more perplexed than anything else.





	Belum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storyranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyranger/gifts).

> I probably can't do justice to this rare pair the way StoryRanger can but I certainly wanted to give it a try. 
> 
> The Aftermath of last week's match on SD!

_ **Belum- auxiliary verb- (Indonesian)- Not yet, perhaps, hopeful wish.** _

Elias Samson hated people. He preferred to stay on his own and to fend for himself. People just complicated things. They couldn't be trusted.

While he usually felt this way, he occasionally found himself feeling compassionate.

The takeout bag weighed heavy in his hand. Mustafa was going to find this insane. Destroy a guy in a match, win said bout and then, proceed to buy him _fried chicken_.

The more he thought about it, the crazier it sounded. What the hell had he been thinking? What had made him think this was a good plan? 

Elias paused, stopping in front of the door. Glancing down, he checked the number scrawled on his hand. Buddy had only been eager to give Elias the needed information in exchange for a crisp fifty dollar bill. 

That also sounded insane. 

Maybe he could run. Mustafa wouldn't be any wiser. He could give the night auditor most of the chicken.

That felt like the better plan.

Before he could make a decision, the door popped open. Mustafa looked as close to irritated as Elias had ever seen. Maybe irritated wasn't the right description. He looked more perplexed than anything else. 

"Can I help you?" Mustafa crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. 

"How the hell did you know I was out here?" Elias blurted out the first thing he could think of. He felt his cheeks grow warm. 

"Police hearing." Mustafa shrugged as if saying _it's really not *that* special_. "Also- you trusted Murphy. He gave you the right information, but also called me. Now- _can I help you?_"

"Decided to be nice." Elias held the bag up. "I decided to bring a peace offering."

"Uh huh." Mustafa gave him a skeptical look. "You know I keep Halal, right?"

"I did." It was amazing what one learned when the world assumed one blasted classic rock around the clock. Elias learned a lot, as he hung around catering. "Did you know there's a Halal chicken joint in Newport News?"

Elias, calling in a favor owed to him by Bayley, borrowed her rental and made the 32 minute drive to the rundown building, praying to all the available deities that YELP was right and the food was as good as the reviews implied. 

The inside was gray and dingy, with cracked floor tile and 80's style counters. It smelled good, and it wasn't like he had any other options for Halal food. He decided to try it. 

"I knew that, but I'm surprised _you_ know that." Mustafa laughed, as his shoulders slumped down. "You drove to _Newport News_ to bring me _fried chicken_?" 

It hadn't occurred to him that Mustafa might not eat fried foods. He'd just been happy to find halal food still available at 11:45 at night. Maybe this had been a horrendous idea from the start...

"Not an asshole." Elias exhaled, resisting the urge to run. The _one_ time he tried to be nice, and it just kept getting worse. How could he possibly escape? Couldn't he just find an excuse to leave? "I can take _my_ chicken and leave, if you'd prefer." 

"You really are a bad guy." To Elias's complete surprise, Mustafa stepped back and held the door open wider. "I appreciate you thinking of me." 

Then, he smiled, completely catching Elias off guard. 

"You were good." Elias broke their stare, almost finding it too intimate. "Took me to my limit." 

"Weren't so bad yourself." Mustafa turned, beckoning him in. "Come on." 

Elias hadn't expected this would happen. He hadn't thought that far ahead, but he decided to roll with it. That made the most sense. 

What was the worst that could possibly happen? 

"I don't bite." Mustafa extended his hand, silently asking Elias to take it. Against his better judgement, Elias did, surprised when fingers closed around his wrist. "Unless you ask nicely." 

This just kept getting stranger and stranger. 

"Right." Elias crossed the threshold, doing his best to ignore his racing heart. "I..." 

Elias found himself at a loss for words- something that seldom happened. He didn't know what to say or what to think. 

"Just go with it." Mustafa shut the door behind them, nodding towards a small table. "It'll be fine." 

Elias believed him. Mustafa didn't seem capable of lying. He had always struck Elias as a class act. 

Besides, it would be nice to have some company that wasn't Shane or Drew. 

"Thanks for this." Mustafa flashed him a dazzling grin, and Elias swore his heart began to race again. This was _bizarre._

"You're welcome." Elias pulled a chair back, and plopped down. He dropped the take-out bag on the scarred wooden table. 

Something told him this night was about to get _very_ interesting. 

-fin-


End file.
